


Spy's Game

by GatewayGirl



Series: The Finder Series [2]
Category: Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Bondage, D/s, Exhibitionism, Intrigue, M/M, Plotty, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-04
Updated: 2010-03-13
Packaged: 2017-10-07 22:27:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/69889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GatewayGirl/pseuds/GatewayGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After their encounter in the Chamber of Secrets, Harry finds himself wanting more contact with Snape. However, with signs indicating a traitor in the Order, they soon have more to think about than basilisk scales and sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Alliance

**Author's Note:**

> Spy's Game is the sequel to Finder's Fee. You should read that first, although this one has a lot more plot. I started this in early '04, and the stories are emphatically _not_ HBP-compliant.
> 
> Thanks to atropos for the Britpick and maelwaedd for kink beta.

When Harry sat down at dinner, his attention was entirely on Professor Snape. It wasn't his usual trepidation or study, nor the hatred that used to consume him when he was younger. Instead, he found himself thinking entirely of personal matters.

Professor Snape, he decided, was not conventionally handsome, but he was nowhere near as ugly as they had painted him as children. His hair, it was true, could use more consistent care, and his teeth, as seemed surprisingly common in the wizarding world, were crooked, but his nose was hawkish and bold, and would be thought quite distinguished in some circles, and his unbending manner had a certain appeal -- _strength,_ Harry thought, _and will._

He had been noticing this year -- well, perhaps a little during last spring -- the grudging respect that Snape had started to show him in meetings of the Order. Somehow, it made the man's persistent, vile attacks less real, and Harry had found himself responding to the cool, hissed barbs -- here was something strong and dangerous, and just barely under control, paying him the court of its malice. He felt, at once, both valued and at risk, and the combination heated and sped his blood.

The first time he had got an erection from it -- in a Potions lesson, with Snape telling him he was a reckless fool and intimating that his potion might be ill-brewed enough to explode and damage him -- he had been terrified. If his year-mates realized that the soft half-threats were sinking straight to his groin, they would disown him.

But no one had noticed.

And now he had made it clear to Snape -- made it real. He had had his first sex with a man -- a dangerous man in a dangerous place -- and reveled in it. And he would have him again -- Snape had as much as said so. Perhaps some other way this time. Harry flushed hot at the half-formed thought of that long cock elsewhere than in his mouth. He glanced at his friends and wondered how he could evade them for the evening without arousing suspicion. He knew this would be illegal in the Muggle world -- perhaps he had better investigate Wizard law, to determine how much rode on his discretion.

Harry's scar began to itch, and then to burn. He rubbed his forehead. Snape was rising from the table, his arm pressed tight to his side. Harry found his usual fear overridden by annoyance.

_No chance of more tonight._

 

*******

 

Severus fumed while he waited for Potter to show up for detention. _Arrogant, self-centered, stupid boy! If he thinks he can get away with this behavior by offering sexual favors.... _He hissed in a breath. He had enjoyed Potter's ... offering, before, and had hoped for more.... _But I will not give him control._

Potter entered looking flushed and excited. For a moment, Severus couldn't imagine what had possessed the boy to walk down to his office with nothing to contain the erection was distorting his robes; as he opened his mouth to speak, he remembered that he had requested that, the day that they had collected the basilisk scales. His determination did not waver, but his regret increased.

Potter sent him a heady, lustful look, then lowered his head. Severus felt his mouth go suddenly dry.

"Potter," he managed.

"Sir?" The boy licked his lips delightfully. "Would you like my robes off?"

"No, I would not!" Severus snapped.

Potter shifted back, suddenly wide-eyed. Severus scowled.

"If the only way you can think of to get my attention, Potter, is to misbehave in class, you are obviously not mature enough to be playing with me in that manner."

Potter's astonished dismay lasted only a second before shifting to a more familiar sullen look. "I assumed I already _had _your attention. I wanted to get you alone."

"The point stands." Severus stood and leaned over his desk, glaring at the boy. "You are here for detention, and it will be as dull a punishment as I can devise. I will not even stay and loom over you, as you might enjoy that." He pointed to the door. "To the classroom. You will be scrubbing the residue of Creevy Minor's latest disaster. When you are done, you will return here to have me confirm that your work was adequate. Whether or not you finish in time to do so, you may _not _join your insufferable classmates in Hogsmeade. Now get out of my sight!"

Sullen resentment, to hurt, to a familiar hatred, and the copper salt eyes were gone. Severus looked down at his pile of essays and wondered if he could fail them all.  
Severus stepped out of the floo at Grimmauld place and surveyed the previous arrivals with contempt. At least the Weasley twins were the youngest present; Dumbledore's decision to allow Potter and his flunkies to attend meetings had not extended to the boy's other smitten followers. Unfortunately, it looked like they would have a full complement of Weasleys, today. Even the dragon handler, who rarely risked the border violation to attend, was there. He was sitting by the twins, with his knees so spread as to overlap the empty chair on his other side. Severus felt a flash of angry triumph at the sight of him -- the man who had not had Potter -- but it was soured by his memory of turning the boy away on Saturday.

Saturday had been a disaster in more ways than one. Although most of Potter's militia were not allowed in on the Order's secrets, some were used for small jobs from time to time. It had seemed logical to send one of the Mudbloods to deliver a defensive amulet to a mixed family on Hogsmeade weekend. Who would notice?

It appeared no one needed to notice. Someone had known. The student, Gryffindor's Thomas, had been ambushed and killed. Severus scowled. Their previous losses may have been the result of outside spying, or even luck, but this attack clearly indicated a traitor in their midst. Full meetings were simple folly. Not only could a suicide attacker attempt to destroy the room and all those in it, but no information should be known by everyone when someone -- he suspected one of the Weasleys -- was untrustworthy.

As many times before, Severus began to spin plans in his head -- the Order of the Phoenix as he would run it, as a real, efficient, counterforce to Voldemort's Death Eaters. First, he would divide the organization into cells. New recruits would be less of a risk -- and less at risk -- if brought only into a small division, secret from the organization's other members. Plans would be carefully parceled out to those cells needed for their execution, and --

His thought were interrupted by two new arrivals -- yet another redhead, this one tall and gangly, and a smaller, fiercer boy, with messy black hair and crooked glasses -- hurrying in late. Both looked pale from grief and exhaustion. Charlie straightened, opening up the space beside him, and Severus bit back a snarl. It was overtaken by a smirk when Potter nudged Weasley towards his brother, then glanced around the room for another space. For a split second, their eyes connected, but then the boy looked rapidly away and hurried to sit between Granger and the wolf. Severus watched Lupin's pale hand hover over Potter's arm and settle lightly there. He wondered if he could make their joined flesh ignite purely with the force of his hatred.  
"I'll do the next mission."

Potter, of course. As if he was invulnerable.

"And what if you die? Then we are doomed."

"You don't know that!" Potter pushed back from the table to glare at Dumbledore. "There is _nothing _in that prophesy that says I will kill Voldemort."

"Harry --"

"There isn't! It says we both can't live. Maybe the only way to kill either of us is to nearly kill the other. Maybe someone will kill him while he is watching me be tortured. Maybe we will fight on a balance, and one of us will fall!" He caught his breath.

"Harry," Dumbledore soothed.

"You're distraught," Lupin said gently. "It's understandable that you --"

"That I what? That I be willing to _think? _That I realize protecting me could be PREVENTING us from destroying him?"

A babble of protest greeted this theory. Severus lifted his head. "Potter's right."

Murderous glares came at him from all sides.

"We don't know that!"

"It is as likely as not, Lupin!" Severus heard his voice come out in the cold hiss that drove people off before it convinced them, but he could not overtake the harsh strike. "We can gather defensively around him and be picked off one by one, or we can let him try."

"And if he tries and fails, then what?" Arthur Weasley protested. "Then we've lost."

"No you haven't!" Harry was confident now. "That only one of us _can _live doesn't mean that one of us _must _live. Perhaps someone else can kill him once I'm gone. That may matter -- he has some of my strength. If I die, we might deprive him of that."

The youngest Weasley boy was staring, wide-eyed and horrified, at his friend. Dumbledore inclined his head slightly. "Perhaps. It is more likely he would gain the rest of your strength, which we cannot allow."

"But he would feel it strongly," Severus said slyly. "Perhaps Potter's death would distract him -- fatally."

"It might." To his surprise, Potter took the suggestion as supportive, though Lupin, beside him, looked distraught. "That might be the opening we need." He raised his hands in a gesture of acceptance. "Perhaps my only role in this is to die at the right moment."

"You don't know it is."

"But you don't know it's not!"  
The meeting accomplished nothing, beyond agreement that there was some sort of security leak -- many present would not even commit to the idea of a spy. A few months earlier, Severus might have blamed Potter's grandstanding for the lack of progress. Now, instead, he observed it with a ferocious sympathy. Potter might be arrogant and brash and too certain that his opinions were truth, but he was doing his best to counter the inappropriate care the others took of him. It was time someone recognized that Potter was not more important than the rest of them, and if the person pushing that stance had to be Potter, Severus could accept that. The lack of progress was not due to Potter's arguments, but to the resistance of others to any practical suggestion.

In his defiant survey of the room, Potter caught his scrutiny. Suddenly, the boy looked down, biting back more words. Severus saw his cheek redden.

He shifted his robes to obscure a most inappropriate response.

 

*******

 

Harry growled as he stomped up the stairs to his dormitory. It had taken most of the last two days and Hermione's support to persuade Ron he wasn't suicidal; Potions had been a positive hell of being treated as if he didn't exist, which he would never previously have believed worse than Snape's malice; and now Ron was at it again, as if a willingness to die was the equivalent of a desire to die.

He threw open the door. As other times in the last three days, Dean's absence derailed him. His bed was still there, but with a smooth and unmarked cover. The trunk was gone. Dean was _gone._

Harry had thought to hide in the dormitory, but it could not be a refuge now. He opened his trunk, took out his invisibility cloak, and put it on. In the common room, he waited for the portrait hole to open for someone else and slipped past, and in the corridor outside, he adjusted his concealment and started down the stairs. He had passed the Entrance Hall before realizing he was on his way to Snape's office.

Harry slowed. He wasn't sure that there was any point to trying for another encounter with his most dangerous professor, but he knew he couldn't bear to be in Gryffindor, or with anyone who would express their concern for him. At least if Snape had sex with him, it would be for his own twisted pleasure, with no pretense of sympathy.

He had been avoiding thinking about Saturday afternoon, but now he reviewed their last meeting quickly. Snape hadn't said _never,_ just not while he was behaving childishly. So perhaps he wanted Harry to ask outright?

Harry took off his cloak in an alcove behind a statue of Antonius the Subtle. (According to the plaque, Antonius had greatly lessened persecution of wizards and witches in Perche by directing the enthusiasm of local gentry to the Crusades. Harry figured that made him a sort of Slytherin hero.) Visible, he walked into the office. Snape was there, sitting behind the desk, grading essays with a sour expression on his face. When he was not immediately ordered out of the room, Harry closed the door behind him and drew the bolt shut.

"Is there something you want, Potter?"

Harry ignored the sarcasm. "Yes."

A flash of something crossed the older man's features before they settled again in a sneer.

"And you think I will give it to you?"

"You complained about my immaturity when I attempted to be indirect." Harry walked to the desk and around to the side of it. "I thought you might like this better." Keeping his gaze locked on Snape's, he lowered himself to his knees and reached a hand out to stroke up one thigh. Thick wool shifted on some other fabric beneath it. Snape's breath caught, then evened again.

"Oh yes," he said bitingly. "The famous Boy Who Lived needs cock, does he?"

_Not even close to a refusal! _Harry thought triumphantly. He nodded once and began undoing buttons. Snape didn't stop him. Indeed, he shifted his chair to provide better access.

"Will that comfort you? Something to suck?" He stroked a finger along Harry's cheek and Harry obligingly took it in his mouth. It tasted odd, of ink and other things. Some part of the mix was familiar, but Harry tried not to think too much about it. Most of the things Snape touched were unpleasant, and he probably did not want to identify this one. He curled his tongue along the thin length instead and was rewarded by hearing Snape's breath go ragged.

By now, he had undone enough of the robes to reveal thin trousers that clearly showed the line of Snape's erection. Harry wondered at what point the man had started to grow hard. When he had closed the door? When he had knelt? When he had drawn the finger into his mouth? He stroked up one side of the bulge and down the other, before setting one hand to exploring Snape's balls while the other felt for the fastenings at his waistband. Snape hissed.

"May I, sir?"

Under more normal circumstances, he would have had trouble forcing out such a respectful query, but there was a strange thrill to it now. _We shouldn't be doing this. It can't be allowed. I suppose that makes a difference._

"I shouldn't want to deprive you." The words had a sarcastic bite that made Harry shiver. "As you wish."

Which made, Harry realized, a tacit acknowledgement of the swift actions of his hands on Snape's trousers, and the eager descent of his mouth on the erection thus uncovered, but perhaps his professor needed that -- a demonstration that this was Harry's will. For a minute, Snape stayed completely still and the only sounds beyond the wetness of Harry's mouth over his hard length were the few slight vocalizations that Snape could not quite hold back. Then Harry peripherally saw a hand lift jerkily from a still-covered thigh, and felt it descend onto his hair. He moaned around the cock in his mouth.

"Wanton. Desperate for this, aren't you? Deeper."

Harry opened his throat to comply and found he could take Snape's cock to the root. He held it there as long as he could, then backed off for a breath and swallow, swirled once around with his tongue, and then did it again, sliding his lips right down to Snape's musky matt of black curls. He liked this position, he decided. The angle was just right in his mouth, and he had his hands free. He worked a hand into the open trousers to get to Snape's balls.

"Yes." The word was long and hissed. "That's good." The hand tightened in his hair. "Look at me."

That required letting up on depth, but Harry was relieved to, by then. He eased back enough to meet Snape's gaze, working with his tongue to make up for it, and then, under the intensity of those black eyes, considered that Snape might want more of a show. With one hand, he held the base of Snape's cock steady while he drew his lips to the very tip of it. With an open mouth, he played his tongue around the head, like the girls in Ron's magazines did. Snape appeared to appreciate this quite as much Ron did. His mouth moved in silent curses as he reached out a finger to trace Harry's cheek and the edge of his lip.

"Beautiful."

Snape seemed as surprised to have murmured the word as Harry was to hear it. His face tightened into a scowl and his voice to a sneer. "Such a good little lion. I'm going to come right in that pretty mouth, but you'll love that, won't you? You'll lick it up and moan...." His hips began to arch as his words shifted to babble, the motion forcing his erection back to Harry's throat. "Fuck! Yes. Boy!"

Harry choked and struggled to swallow, and for a moment it was horrible, but then the thick mass was down, and Snape was still making wonderful sounds -- entirely out of control, but in a good way, and Harry drew his tongue up the length of his softening cock to push out the last drops. He looked up to be sure Snape was watching before taking that last creamy bit on the tip of his tongue and bringing it back into his mouth.

"Mmm."

Snape's scowl had changed to an almost reverential stunned expression. His hand loosened from Harry's hair. After a moment, his fingers began to play through it. The touch was surprisingly gentle. Harry thought he'd like it more were he not so desperately aroused. For now, he wanted something forceful. He had the panicked thought that perhaps Snape would laugh at him and send him away.

"Potter?"

Harry was gratified to see Snape shiver when he met his eyes. "Sir?" he tried. His voice was shaking. He didn't mind the rest of it, but that involuntary weakness embarrassed him.

"That was ... well done." Snape's smile twisted slightly. "It seems I've found a course of study that suits you. At last."

Harry panted and tilted his hips forward. "Yeah."

"Such effort should be rewarded. Is there anything in particular that you would like?"

Harry moaned and shifted. He felt a fold of his jeans shift against the front of his aching cock. He'd wanted to try a fuck, but that would need Snape hard. "Touch me," he said finally. "Talk."

To Harry's dismay, Snape stood. Harry sat back and scowled down at the floor, wondering if he should leave now or wait for the taunting to start and scream back.

"Come along."

He looked up. Snape was standing behind his desk, tapping his fingers on impatiently on the shelf behind it. Harry scrambled to his feet just as the shelves swung out on one side and back on the other, revealing a hidden corridor.

"Over here."

Harry walked around the protruding end of the shelves and saw there was a second corridor on the other side. He followed Snape into the narrow passage, which seemed to be lit entirely by some sort of glowing fungus on both walls. It went down several steps -- possibly going under a corridor, Harry thought -- then straight for a short distance, and then up. At the far end, Snape tapped the wall and muttered something. This portal slid aside, and Snape stepped through. He beckoned Harry to enter as well.

"Welcome to my parlor."

The low, evil purr went straight to Harry's groin, making his neglected erection twitch. "I ... Thank you."

Snape let out a soft puff of air that might have been a laugh. "Not here. My bedroom, I think." He led the way through the sparse, dark room, to another room, which seemed less sparse only because it was smaller and messier. A canopied and curtained double bed was tucked into one corner. Beside it, a small bedside table held a nearly-empty water glass, several vials, a book, and a quill. In the doorway, Snape caught at Harry's shoulders. He leant close to whisper.

"You want me to make you come, don't you?"

_Stupid question, _Harry thought. He nodded.

"Then you will do as I say." Snape shoved him forward and Harry glanced back in time to see his face spasm with an unpleasant passion. "Go stand by the bed."

Harry, with only the briefest hesitation, did as he was told. When the green and black coverlet was under his hand, he turned to look back at Snape.

"Good. Now take off your clothes -- shoes first. And socks."

Harry took off his shoes and socks and nearly jumped onto the bed at the chill of the stone floor.

"Is there a problem, Potter?"

Harry bit back a laugh at the familiar words in this strange context. "The floor is cold. Sir."

"Do you not know any warming charms?" Snape's sneered in response. "Have you forgotten you're a wizard?"

Hesitantly, Harry drew his wand. He supposed Snape's comment meant that he was allowed, but it seemed rude, as if he thought Snape's room inadequate. _But then, it is inadequate. He's in the dungeons and can't even be bothered to put down a carpet. _Quickly, he cast a warming spell on the bare stones.

"Good. Now your robes."

Harry unfastened his robes and slid them off. Snape was watching him like a raven eyeing a mouse. Harry debated continuing to hold his wand or leaving it with the robes. In the end, he laid it on the table, within reach.

Snape stayed in the doorway, his arms folded across his narrow chest.

"Obedient for once, aren't you? Afraid I won't carry through till you come?" He sneered. "Don't worry. Do exactly what I say, and I'll give you what you want." His eyes flickered down Harry's still-clothed form. "Get that ridiculous puffy bag of a shirt off."

Harry pulled off the sweatshirt -- an old one of Dudley's that he had shrunk in as much as he could. However much he tried to only narrow a garment, the sleeves or legs always started to shorten before it came close to fitting.

He shivered, less from the cool air on his skin than from the slicing flicks of Snape's eyes over his body. He was standing in only his jeans, now -- loose ones that hung off his hips, but probably obscured his straining erection in their puffed-out folds. He saw Snape lick hungrily at his lips, and the reaction was as pleasing as it was confusing. He couldn't restrain a glance down at his scrawny torso. _Don't know what he sees in me. Of course that's probably mutual. Maybe he likes waifs._

"The trousers, Potter. Slowly."

Harry shivered at the menace in Snape's tone. He raised his head defiantly and undid his belt. The jeans were so large that they should have fallen at that, but he carefully held them at the front with one hand, using the other to undo the zipper that he usually left closed, and letting the denim and metal to part to show skin. Snape had raised a hand to his face and was biting at one knuckle. Harry let the jeans descend another few inches, so the head of his swollen cock showed clearly. He ached with arousal.

"You like this." Snape seemed to gain control from his own smooth voice. His fingers left his mouth, though he trailed the tips slowly down his neck. His mouth curled with contempt. "Always showing off."

_"You _like this," Harry retorted, letting the garment sag still lower, so his cock was jutting out above it. He turned away, glancing back over his shoulder, gave an entirely unnecessary twist of his hips, and let it lower still, down to his thighs, and then dropped his hold altogether. He turned back as he stepped out of the fallen denim.

Snape snorted. "And why wouldn't I?" He advanced slowly, pausing after each step. "An eager young man -- possibly the second most famous wizard in Britain -- dropping his trousers because I tell him to?" He was in reach, now, and he stretched a hand out and grasped Harry's cock in it before taking the last step in. There were bare inches of space between them as his grip clenched around Harry. "Tell me how much I excite you."

"Fuck!" Harry wasn't sure he could be coherent about something so strange. "What for? I'd have thought you could feel that." He emphasized his point with a push into the tight circle of Snape's hand.

"But I want to hear you say it." Snape gripped tighter, not letting Harry slide through at all. "And you will do as I say. Tell me."

Harry felt his face heating even before he spoke. "You get me so hard," he managed. He fought for breath. Snape stroked his cock once and stopped. Harry exhaled. "So bloody hard. Those looks, the way you talk." It was getting easier, now, though part of that was the way that Snape was pulling at his erection, timing the motion to his words. "In lessons, I'm always terrified someone will notice, someone will guess why I'm red, why I can't breathe silently."

Snape's hand stopped. "Wait." For a moment, Harry feared that he had said something wrong, but Snape took a vial from the bedside table with his free hand and opened it with his teeth. He trickled the contents onto Harry's cock. The liquid felt warm. Snape began to rub it in, and it had a slide like thin oil.

"Go on."

"Unh." Harry tried to re-engage enough of his brain to remember what he'd been saying. He gave up. "Oh, that's so good."

The motion stopped. "Your lack of focus is abysmal, Potter. You were telling me --" He dropped his voice lower. "-- how you get hard in my lessons."

"Sorry. I ... when you talk to me. Or the way you pace." An embarrassing whining sound escaped from his clenched mouth as Snape's stroking resumed and sped up. Harry swayed and grabbed onto Snape's shoulders to keep from falling.

"Sorry!" He pulled his hands away.

"No. Hold on. I ... Do it."

Tentatively, Harry brought his hands back to Snape's shoulders. Snape nipped once at his neck, then moved up to whisper in his ear. "What would your friends think, Harry? What if they saw you like this, leaning into my touch, eager for it, agreeing to anything?"

Harry laughed raggedly. He was moments from coming, some single unknown sensation from coming. "That I'd gone round the bend from stress." He leaned into Snape's chest, kissing at the top button of his robes. "Might be true. Want more. Want you, again. Want you so badly."

Snape turned to him and pushed, and Harry landed on his back on the bed. He lay in stunned silence for a moment, watching Snape's robes and shirt come off faster than he would have believed possible. His professor crawled out of his trousers and on top of him in one action.

"Once again, the Boy Who Lived gets what he wants." That cold mouth moved in a smirk over yellow teeth. "Though I can't say I object, this time."

Snape was half-hard, but made no attempt to do anything about that. Instead, he lay down to one side and resumed the working Harry's cock with his oiled hand. When Harry's breath quickened, he bent close and set his mouth to one nipple, lipping and biting the sensitive spot. The first long pull was all Harry needed to send him over the edge. As his balls tightened, he arched up, trying to get more of everything, and managing to turn his involuntary cries into something like "Professor!" as wet warmth splattered along his stomach.

Snape's hand slowed to a gentle slide of fingers. Harry collapsed, half-under, half-beside the older man, and totally spent. There was no place left in him to hold the tension. For several minutes, they lay together, the only sound their breath slowing.

"It's not you fault, you know," Snape said suddenly. He cleared his throat slightly, as if it had clogged from lying down. "The attacks. You couldn't prevent them."

"I know." Still, Harry felt a familiar, painful stab of guilt at the thought.

"I just want it clear. In case this is somehow...."

Severus trailed off. Harry understood. He wasn't sure he could find the words either, but he knew what Snape meant. In case he accepted Snape's insults because he felt he somehow deserved them, because people had died when he was supposed to be able to save them.

"No." He swallowed. "I mean, sometimes I _feel _that way, but I know, really, that even if I will be the one who can do something later, there's been nothing I could do to stop this. Not yet."

"You are really...." Snape hesitated. He rolled on his side. For a moment, he looked directly at Harry, then his black gaze shifted away. "You are quite intelligent." His voice was abstract, distant. "For a Gryffindor. And I admire --" he swallowed -- "some of your abilities."

"Well, good." Harry pressed close, to avoid the return of those eyes, and found himself laving light kisses along the man's neck. After a minute's silence, he felt compelled to contribute an opinion.

"It's not that I don't know what I'm worth, really," he said awkwardly. "It's that I'm used to being put down. I always hated it, but it's _comforting, _now, somehow, when other people seem to think I could stop it all. That's not right, either. And I'm not explaining well -- I don't know. This --" He rubbed his face along Snape's neck and explored the closer ear with tongue and teeth -- _"This_ is better yet. I feel so safe." He let his voice get teasing. "The only thing to threaten me here is you, and I know I can handle _that."_

Snape shifted, pushing him back, and pinned Harry's wrists before taking over the kisses. "And I will keep you safe."

"Mmmm." Snape had always done his best to keep him safe, even when his malice overshadowed Harry's real enemies. It had taken Harry six years and several deaths to understand that, and he still didn't know what to say about it.

The kisses turned to bites, and Harry squirmed. He was afraid he would be able to get away, but Snape was nothing but corded muscle and seemed to have some trick of leverage that Harry had not yet learned. Despite his struggles, the nips and pinches continued, until Harry's gasps turned back to cries of pleasure. He could feel his cock stirring under Snape's pushes.

"You like that."

"God! Oh yes. Keep me down."

Perversely, Snape withdrew. Harry had only a moment to be disappointed before he felt something close on his wrists and draw them apart. His ankles were likewise spread. He opened his eyes to see Snape giving a thin smile of satisfaction over the length of his wand.

Harry pulled on one wrist and found he could move it about six inches. A wide strap bound it to the headboard. His other limbs were likewise restrained. Snape bent nearer, sneering dangerously. The head of his cock, now just as stiff as it had been at the start in his office, pressed into Harry's thigh.

"Mine."

Harry extended his throat in offering to uneven, but practiced teeth. "Yours," he gasped. "For now."

Snape was not put off by the qualification. He bent and bit painfully hard but mercifully quickly. Harry wondered briefly if he had actually broken skin, and how he would hide that sort of mark from his roommates. Snape sucked softly at the spot for a moment, then levered himself up.

"Have you considered, Potter, that you're at my mercy?"

Harry jerked his head to get his fringe out of his eyes. "What there is of it," he quipped.

"I am quite serious. You are bound, you cannot reach your wand, and no one --" He bent close, his teeth ghosting over Harry's throat. "-- knows where you are."

Harry moaned, and Severus laughed with a short, dry chuckle. He traced a hand down Harry's torso, past his cock, which was attempting to revive, and between his legs. "And still eager." He trailed a finger down Harry's crack, and Harry gasped. "And now?"

Harry collected his breath. "Still eager," he managed. The digit _down there _began to press at him, seeking entrance, and he mewled with desperate frustration. When, without warning, warm oil trickled down his crack, pooling beneath him in disconcerting wetness, he realized he had closed his eyes, and forced them open again.

"You're hard again. Obviously, once isn't enough for you."

Harry was about to note that it obviously wasn't enough for Snape, either, but then the finger went in, and his mind was overloaded with the feeling of something _inside _him, sliding past sensitive skin in its passage.

"Fuck!"

"I think I might."

"Please." Harry pushed onto the finger as much as the restraints would allow, but Snape drew back, keeping the intrusion frustratingly shallow.

"Please what?"

"Please, sir?" That didn't seem to be it. Harry wet his lips and struggled to form words. "Please fuck me?" Snape was still watching, coldly amused. "Please -- I need you to fuck me."

"Need, Potter?" Snape sneered, but he at last pushed the finger in deep, and Harry moaned. "What a desperate little slut you are. You don't expect adjustments to your marks, I hope?"

"No...." Harry managed, his voice wavering. "No, just -- more, please. Want more."

"Of course you do. All the Muggle-born and mixed-bloods of Britain are waiting with baited breath for you to deliver them, and you just want a good fuck."

Harry whined. There didn't seem any point in words; he wasn't about to argue. The intrusion left, and returned wider; he pushed back on it. It wasn't until his wrists hurt that he realized Snape had slowly moved back, and he had followed as far as he could. Snape thrust his fingers in deep, making him cry out.

"Shift up, Potter. You might want the slack."

Harry used his shoulders and hips to wriggle back up the bed. Snape followed, his pushes remaining deep.

"That's it. You want more, Potter? I think an eager hole like that needs cock."

"Yes. Yes, please!"

Nothing happened. Harry opened his eyes to find Snape looking at him speculatively.

"Is that wrong? What ... what's wrong?"

Snape set his head to the side. He gave Harry a sly look that made him seem years younger than usual. "I'm simply wondering if everyone who would murder me for this is conveniently dead."

Harry snorted and stretched back, arraying himself within his bonds. "Not even close." He licked his lips. "But here I am. You have enough sense to take what you want, right?"

"Oh yes." Snape bent close. He kissed fiercely, like a madman claiming the words from Harry's lips. "I'll take what I want."

Harry felt the push at his entrance and welcomed it. He cried out, even though it hardly hurt at all -- nothing like he had expected.

"Can you take what you asked for, Potter?"

"Oh god! So full. That's so good." Harry recognized, dimly, that Snape really had been asking, behind the taunt, but most of his attention was locked into the stretch _back there, _and the nails digging in _up here, _and the scent of sweat and sex and man. He moaned and thrashed against his restraints, feeling the welcome pull back on wrist and ankles, holding him in place. "Yes!"

The thrusts came deeper and faster, striking sparks inside him and validating the noises he seemed compelled to make. Finally it edged into one long wail, focused not, as always before, on his balls and cock pushing out, but on a flare deep inside him and a muscle he had not been aware of pulsing in, gripping, enveloping, claiming Snape's cock, even as uneven teeth claimed his neck. He collapsed back, and a weight collapsed over him.  
Snape stretched over for his wand, and a moment later, Harry felt his restraints disappear. He felt a bit odd. Snape caught at one of his wrists and rubbed it. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah. Just felt a bit -- adrift for a moment."

Snape rolled him on his side and held him there, pulled tight in front of him, the wrist still in his grip. "I have you."

Harry panted for a moment, absorbing the strong hold that enclosed him and trying to devise a sane reply.

"Good," he said finally.

Snape was silent for a moment.

"You need to go back," he said finally, "soon. To your tower."

"I know. Just hold on a moment longer."

"Thomas...."

"Yes." The first of his classmates to die. Harry didn't want to think about that empty bed. He didn't want to sleep in a room with it another night.

"I still think it likely that it is one of the Weasleys."

"And I still can't believe that. I know all of them, S- sir."

Snape's body pressed closer to him. "What did you almost call me?"

"I ... I don't know." Harry wondered if he should lie so easily. "What would you like me to call you?"

Snape kissed lazily along the side of Harry's neck. "Severus," he said finally, "or 'sir' or 'Professor.' I trust you will know when to use which."

"Severus," Harry breathed dizzily. His eyes closed of their own accord.

"Too many things are known by everyone. It makes it difficult to isolate the spy."

Harry opened his eyes. "You'd know."

"Yes."

Harry sighed. He looked back over his shoulder. "What do _normal_ people talk about in bed?"

Severus stared at him a moment, then began to laugh. "How should_ I _know?" His sly smile faded into his usual harsh grimace. "Everything," he said. "Reputedly. That is why seduction is a favored tool of spies."

"Oh."

"Go to your room now, before anyone starts to look for you. Be discreet."

Harry sighed. "I suppose I have to."

He had just drawn on his trousers when Severus, watching from the bed, spoke.

"Oh -- one thing we did not discuss...."

"What?"

"A matter of business. The split of the profits. From the basilisk, I mean."

Harry shrugged. "Is twenty percent all right?"

"Twenty!" To Harry's surprise, Snape sounded offended.

"Well, killing it wasn't easy. Granted, I would have done it anyway -- I did do it anyway." Harry glanced over at Snape, forcing himself not to quail at the displeasure evident there. "If you want more than eighty, don't just glare at me -- make a case."

Snape collapsed back against the bed and made a series of choking sounds that Harry guessed were badly suppressed -- or possibly atrophied -- laughter.

"What?"

"You idiot child! You'd give me eighty percent?"

"Well ... I don't know! What do you think is fair?"

"First, _never_ ask a Slytherin what they think is _fair._ Second, an even split is the most I believe I could get away with. If anyone were to discover this, and the headmaster to find I had given you less...." Snape's voice trailed off ominously. "Well, he might begin to investigate ... other matters."

"Oh." Harry considered this for a moment. "You thought I meant...."

"And an odd time for you to become so demanding."

Harry shrugged. "Well, an even split, then. I wouldn't ask for more. I mean, you're the one who will be doing all the work now, right?"

"Such as it is."

"I wouldn't want to negotiate with apothecaries!"

"Ah ... but I'll enjoy it. And I won't bother with apothecaries."

"Bully for you. Half." Harry considered. "No, better yet, half of profit, after you take a ten percent broker's fee, and set aside ten percent for the school."

Snape considered this. "May I delay giving Hogwarts its cut until after your graduation?"

Harry managed an almost Slytherin smirk. "Probably for the best ... lover."

Severus sucked in a breath, but the explosion Harry half-expected to follow never came.

"Go to bed, child. It's late."

Harry pulled on his shirt, then his robe. He dared a quick smile towards the bed. "Damn good thing Professor Snape isn't out prowling."

"Huhn. He must have found something more entertaining to do."

Harry grinned. "Good night. I'll come again -- if that's all right?"

"I look forward to it."

Harry turned in surprise and looked back, but there was nothing but lust in his professor's eyes.

"Good," he said.

He threw on his cloak and passed, invisible, from the room.


	2. The Scheme

It was only three days later that Harry found himself in Severus Snape's bed again, sated, relaxed, and discussing the war.

"We can trust all the Weasleys, except Percy! And I don't believe anyone but Mrs. Weasley would be so stu-- blind as to trust Percy, and she swears she hasn't."

"So you would rather believe someone is setting them up. And Dumbledore won't hear of anything so sensible as a test--"

"We could do it."

"What?"

"We could do a test. Create some fake bit of information and give it just to them -- see if it's acted on."

"Hm." Severus contemplated Harry's hand. He stroked along one of the fingers and circled lightly over the nail. "And you are ideally situated for that, for Ron and Ginny, are you not?"

"And Fred and George."

The touch stopped at the base of Harry's nail. "Oh?"

"We're business partners."

Dark eyebrows climbed at that, but Severus did not comment. He let go of Harry's hand and sat up. "Good. You take the younger four, and I'll take the older four. We should use different pieces of information. Knowing it is a Weasley does not help us much. We need to know which one."

"It's _not _one of them."

"We shall see."

Severus moved restlessly. Harry frowned. He didn't want to leave, but he was afraid he was overstaying his welcome.

"I can't do Fred and George separately."

"Can't?"

"It would be very difficult, there's a good chance they'd notice, and don't think there's any point."

"Better." Severus pulled on one of his fingers.

"It doesn't make _sense _though, that --" Harry stopped abruptly. "You want me to leave?"

"I --" Severus froze, his long, stained fingers intertangled, and frowned at Harry. "Why?"

"You ..." Harry thought how to describe what had made him uneasy -- "You seem restless."

"Oh." Severus looked down. "Is it obvious?"

"Rather." Harry shrugged. "So I thought --"

"No." Black eyes flashed up. "Stay. We were plotting." He twisted and opened his nightstand drawer. "I'll stop fidgeting."

Harry went up on one elbow to look curiously at what Severus was doing, but could not see past his shoulder. He heard a mumbled _"Incendio." _Severus rolled back in a trail of smoke.

"Cigarettes!" Harry reached over his lover's chest. "Gimme -- I mean, please may I have one?"

"You don't smoke, Potter."

"Not since July! I'd expected to get more, but after the attack on my birthday, I was basically under house arrest, and I didn't think Mrs. Weasley would buy me more." He looked pleadingly at Severus. "Please."

Severus returned the look with an evil smile. "It will yellow your teeth."

"Pff! There are spells for that, you know."

"Did Lockhart teach you?"

Harry glared. _"Hermione _did. Her parents are dentists, and she's appalled at the state of wizarding oral hygiene, so she's been researching. She's taught everyone in Gryffindor cleaning, whitening, and breath-freshening spells, and she's trying to find something to straighten teeth. It's her term project. It's _scary." _Harry reached across Severus again. "Please?"

Severus pulled another cigarette out and handed it to Harry. Harry wondered if he could actually manage the Incendiary Charm with something in his mouth.

"Put it in your mouth."

Harry obliged, and was surprised when Severus, rather than drawing his wand, held out his cigarette so the tip touched the tip of Harry's.

"Draw."

Harry did. He shivered at the first trails of smoke, sucked in strongly, and watched the tip flare to orange embers.

"There." Severus settled back, and Harry sent out a quick puff of smoke, then slowly drew in again, until he felt dizzy. He lifted his gaze to find Severus regarding him with hungry intensity.

_He likes that. A lot. He looks ready to eat me._ More deliberately, Harry pulled in as much smoke as he could stand, then let a slow stream of it rise from his mouth into the light of the candles. It coiled in the draft like a lazy snake.

"Mmm. I've missed that." He felt lightheaded and strange, like he had the first few times he smoked, but also utterly sated, as in the moments after sex.

"Clearly." Severus's low voice was husky, and Harry felt his cock pulse in response. He sent Severus a suggestive look, licking his lips where he had just taken the cigarette away. The older man scowled and looked away.

"We were, I believe, discussing the Weasleys? You were decrying the logic of something."

"Oh. Weasley or not, the inside spy theory has one huge flaw."

"Oh?"

"The plans that have _not_ been disrupted. Think about the Llangollen operation. _Everyone _knew about that, and it was fairly important, but it went off without a hitch. Then there was the unicorn mission that got intercepted. It's as if the Death Eaters are finding out about _random_ operations, not all the group ones. And the members killed have been a fairly random lot, too."

"Except that _none_ of them have been Weasleys. I expect they couldn't counter the Llangollen one without endangering their spy. That would make it Charlie or one of the twins." Severus took a long draw on his cigarette and tapped the ash onto the crusty residue in an empty glass. "And if it is the twins, we are in serious trouble. A spy who makes your tools can do incredible damage."

"I suppose you'd know."

"Yes."

Harry stared absently at the smoke rising from his hand. "How do we work the tests? It can't be something they will check with anyone else, but it needs to be something we can check."

"It also cannot require the direct participation of the person being tested, as they would no doubt not risk a move, in that case."

"Or anything that endangers another Weasley."

"So you agree."

"For testing purposes, yes. But how do we do that?"

"Since we have you as a resource, we could claim someone is meeting you at a particular time and place."

"And why is the Weasley in on this? Fred and George are easy enough; they need to provide something for it, and Ron I can just confide in ... Ginny too, I suppose."

"We might want Bill to research a certain type of curse."

"Ah! I know. I'm meeting Lupin at the Shrieking Shack on the day of the full moon, and you want him to research ... something."

"Lupin's bringing a recruit -- a young vampire. I want him to research how you might be protected from any aggressive moves she might make."

"All right. And Charlie?"

"Something to do with dragons, obviously." Severus frowned and stubbed out his cigarette. "A surveillance plot, perhaps? Or perhaps you could tell him you're no longer a virgin and wish to meet him?"

"No."

Severus smirked at Harry's harsh answer. "Well, dragons, then. And Arthur would be something in the Ministry, of course -- perhaps smuggling in a spy -- and Molly -- Well, that would be rather hard to believe, but I'll think of something." He rolled onto one side and propped himself up on an elbow. "I'll work out the details for my four; you do yours. For now, it's time for you to go."

Harry sighed. He couldn't really argue -- Ron would start speculating if he was much later. Reluctantly, he got out of bed and drew on his clothes. He was at the bedroom door, wondering if he would get a goodbye, when Severus finally spoke.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"I believe I'll give you detention in a day or two. Don't ask for it, but don't make it too difficult."

"I thought we weren't going to do things that way."

"I will not reward you for causing trouble. It's still a good way to get time together, if we have agreed."

"All right, then."

"Good." Severus stood swiftly and glided over. He pressed his naked body hard against Harry's robes and kissed him violently. Harry was breathless when he drew back.

"Go, then. Oh, and Harry?"

"Huh?"

"One of those breath freshening spells might be in order before you enter your common room ... or perhaps something more general."

Harry raised his hand and inhaled the sharp smell of smoke from his fingers. "Um ... yeah."

 

*******

 

It was altogether too easy, Severus thought, as licked at the spots he had been biting a moment before, all in a little row below the manacles, to fall into the habit of something dangerous. He didn't feel guilty about these encounters, or enjoy them any less, but he knew, as he sucked the taste of steel and sweat from the boy's wrists, that he was starting to lose the edge of risk. Familiarity led easily to carelessness.

"Mmm." Harry finally ceased his attentions to the spent cock dangling in his face, and rubbed his cheek along Severus's thigh. For a moment, he sounded as if he would speak, but then just wiggled slightly down the bed, pulling his hands against the metal. Severus yanked him back up.

"Hey!"

"Enough of that." A wand touch to the manacles and they fell open. "It's time for you to do something useful."

Harry looked slightly surprised, but quickly turned flirtatious. "And I thought I was the greedy one."

_"Useful, _I said. Have you ever filled a message ball?"

"What, done the recording? No."

"Recording?" Severus thought that was an odd word. "It's not a _record _\-- that's the point."

"Muggle term for it," Harry said. Severus felt his lip curl involuntarily at the reference. Harry rolled his eyes. "Or the closest equivalent of it. We don't have anything single-play, though."

And that, Severus thought, once he had deciphered the term, was the best thing about the message balls that the Weasley twins had invented. While words traveling through the Floo could be overheard, and burned letters read from their ashes, entrapping words in the message ball got them through without danger of interception, and once the message was released, it could not be reconstructed from the casing. The Order had switched to their near-exclusive use a few months ago -- but it was about then, by his reckoning, that the security problem had worsened. "A useful innovation. Unless the twins are our traitors."

Severus watched Harry bite back a defense. The boy was learning, but his face was still far too open. He was visibly searching for a neutral reply.

"Well, that's why we're going to test them, right?"

"And that's why Fred and George are a priority. You will need to send the message ball to them."

"I could send them a letter." Harry sounded defiant. "It's not real information."

"If they mention your indiscretion, or come to distrust you, we have problems. Think! And if their test ends in betrayal, we won't know whether it is them, or your carelessness."

"All right." Harry shrugged. "I'd like to learn how to do it, anyway."

"You should have been taught immediately." Severus rose from the bed and drew on a dark dressing gown. "Come with me. You can watch me fill the one for Charlie, then try your own." He did not offer Harry anything to wear. When the boy looked down at his school robes, Severus seized his wrist. "No. I want you naked."

Harry grinned. "Not for rec-- filling the message ball, you don't."

Severus raised his eyebrows. He considered telling Harry to wait, but then his eyes fell on the boy's crumpled clothes, giving him a better idea.

"Put on the shirt. _Only _the shirt."

Harry looked down. With a sinfully wanton look, he picked up the thin t-shirt he had been wearing under his robes and pulled it on. It came down a little past his navel, covering only the root of his cock and nothing of his balls. Severus opened his drawer to get cigarettes, pretending not to watch as Harry tugged automatically and ineffectively at the hem of his shirt.

"You like this?"

"Yes. It suits you."

Leaving his last statement ambiguous, Severus led the way out to the sitting room, where he kept the empty balls in a locked box beside the grate. In passing, he dropped the cigarettes on the end table and watched Harry drift towards them with feigned indifference. "Leave the armchair free. I generally sit there for this work." That was sufficient permission. By the time he brought the box back to the coffee table, Harry was stretched out along the sofa, quite entirely exposed, blowing smoke up towards the ceiling. Severus had to stop and watch him for a moment.

"You look decadent."

To his embarrassment, the words emerged in a soft growl of lust. Harry tensed, but then relaxed back. He looked over.

"Pervert. You just want to ogle me while you're talking to Charlie."

Severus bit back a snarl. "Yes," he hissed. "I do. So touch yourself and give me something to look at." He left a moment for that command to sink in, and to confirm that Harry's free hand was moving down his body -- not quickly, but with deliberate sensual enjoyment. "And don't let that interfere with your observation of the lesson."

Severus pulled out one of the shimmering, glassy balls and popped it in his mouth. While his tongue rolled the smooth sphere, charging it to receive his voice, he watched Harry avidly. That hand had reached his cock, now, and the fingers curled around it. Slowly, Harry pulled up the length, and with each stroke it became fuller and lay more solidly on his body. The hem of the shirt was pushed up in rumpled pleats by motion of his arm.

The hand paused, and Severus shifted his focus to see Harry taking a drag on the cigarette. He snorted, and had to catch the slippery ball. "What, Potter -- can't smoke and wank at the same time?"

"Shut up. I'm _enjoying _both, okay?"

"That's no excuse. What happened to your famed physical coordination? What if Lestrange comes after you while you're lighting a cigarette?"

Harry twisted to his side, no longer his wanton toy, but The Boy-Who-Lived, with his mouth in a hard scowl and eyes of green fire. "Then she _dies."_

Severus caught his breath. He hadn't meant to push Harry over that line. Now he needed to draw him back. He worked at sounding light, which wasn't one of his better modes. "So it's a problem of unclear priorities? You're uncertain whether you would rather touch yourself or indulge in my drugs?"

Harry settled back, though Severus could still see tension in the lines of his body.

"There's a difference?"

Harry, he reflected, didn't do light well, either, but he was at least trying.

"I would hope so. Now watch."

He tapped the ball with his wand, and it split open and hovered in front of him, open sides angled slightly in at him. Behind the demi-spheres, Harry had resumed an ostentatious fondling of his cock.

"Charles Weasley."

Harry's wicked smile was almost enough to make him jealous -- but then he remembered Harry's response to his suggestion about the message. If Harry was imagining anything, it clearly wasn't happy sex with Charlie.

"I have obtained this dragon scale from enemy operations, and I need the species and country of origin analyzed. Please send the information in a letter to the Chosen, under the guise of providing research information, and he will run it out to the appropriate people at the old wolf-house." He watched Harry arch his hips up in a wanton display. "We need it by Tuesday, when they are available."

He tapped the ball with his wand. "Finis." It was only four steps to Harry's side. He covered Harry's hand with his own and stopped it. "Not yet."

"Please?"

"No." Severus sneered at him. "I have better plans."

"Mm?" Harry's eyes closed to near slits. "Tell me."

"First, I am going to place a charm on us both, so you feel every touch to me as to yourself."

"Oh!" Those eyes widened. "Sounds promising."

"Does it? I thought I might sit here, and masturbate, like you have been, while you fill Fred and George Weasley's message ball."

"Oh shit."

"Consider that a promise or a threat, as you will."  
The charm was simple, and the effect on Harry amusing. Severus waited until he had started speaking and the first attempt was instantly ruined as Harry caught his breath. After that, Severus set up a rhythm, and let Harry try to adjust to it before he started again. That attempt was better, but Severus was still afraid the twins might believe Harry was being coerced.

"Try again."

"God, Severus, please...."

"Do you consider it appropriate, Potter, to address me by my given name?"

Harry looked over speculatively. "Sorry, sir."

"Much better. Try again."

Harry took a deep breath, nodded, and tapped the message ball.

"Fred and George Weasley. Hi Fred. Hi George.

"You know those remote incendiary devices you made? We need another five of them, and I had an idea." Harry fidgeted slightly, but managed to keep it looking like natural restlessness. Snape slowed down his touches to himself, opening his hand and sliding two fingers, one on either side, up and down his shaft. Harry smiled brightly. "Rather than risking someone making an unscheduled trip to your shop, you can send them to me -- hidden in with a Weasley's Wizard Wheezes order -- just some pile of frivolous stuff -- whatever we have in extra stock." Snape gently stretched his foreskin up over his head and shifted it in little circles. Harry bit his lip, but covered for it by glancing to the side. "And someone who will remain nameless wants an assortment of Skiving Snackboxes." He rolled his eyes. "Big surprise.

"Anyway, if you just get those to me by Friday, I can run them out to the wolf house on Saturday. If you need more details, floo Snape -- or don't; you know how he is.

"Have fun!"

Harry tapped the ball. "_Finis. _Was that adequate, sir?"

"You covered well when you lost control." The statement was sneering, but he meant the complimentary part of it. Harry, now, was visibly flushed. Severus was certain he'd be eager for any form of relief, so he stopped touching himself.

"Sir?"

Before Harry could ask his question, Severus drew his trousers back into place. Harry whined with frustration.

Severus walked forward and seized his hair, tilting his head back to kiss him. Harry responded with not just his mouth, but his full body, pressing against him hip to chest until Severus pushed him off slightly.

"What am I sup-- I -- Please, more!" Harry wet his lips. Severus wrapped his long fingers around Harry's thin wrists, reminding him of earlier bonds.

"You've done quite a bit tonight, Harry. Would you like a fuck?"

Harry's eyes shot up, direct and dangerous for a brief second, and then he looked coyly away. "Please, _sir. _You know I would."

"Then you can have it -- on one condition."

"Yes?"

I'm going to floo Charlie, now. I want you in sight of me, and out of sight of the grate, preparing yourself." He leaned forward. "And Harry? Better make it enticing. I don't always keep my promises."

"Oh!" Harry actually took a step back, and Severus released his wrists. "Yeah. Good one."

"You'd like him to see, wouldn't you?"

Harry hesitated, then nodded quickly. "Yeah. Like him to see me getting ready for you."

"As long as the Dark Lord lives, I am not willing to get myself fired."

"Understood."

"But you are welcome to imagine it. I will be imagining much the same thing."

 

*******

 

When Harry received the shipment from the twins, with a note warning him not to do anything dangerous, he replied that Snape would be protecting him. Severus went out to the meeting point the night before. He still wasn't back after dinner on Saturday. Harry waited restlessly in his quarters, pacing, smoking, and insisting to himself that the twins did care. It was midnight before the man returned.

"No sign of any ambush."

Harry relaxed back into the couch, trying to look as if had been lounging all evening. "Good."

"I'm relieved as well." Severus wrinkled his nose. "Have I any cigarettes left?"

"Plenty. I've only been here a few hours. Besides, you can buy more."

"You're pricy to keep, you know -- for a cheap tart."

Harry laughed. "Take it out of my basilisk money."

Severus liked being reminded of the money, and Harry suspected he liked the heavy scent of smoke, as well, and perhaps the worry about his safety it implied. They had excellent sex that night.  
In Monday morning's owl post, Harry received the information from Charlie, with no sign of betrayal. Of course, the real test for Charlie was whether or not the Shrieking Shack was attacked on Tuesday night. Harry was still wondering about that (and amusing himself by imagining Charlie's reaction if he could have seen the planning of his message) when he went to a D. A. meeting that evening. On his way in, he decided it was the perfect time to test Ron, or perhaps Ginny -- whichever one seemed inclined to linger after the meeting. During the interplay of hex and counter-hex, when his thoughts were clearest, he decided not to make any overt moves -- if a passive approach didn't work tonight, there would plenty of other opportunities. Accordingly, at the end of the meeting, when people were filing out, he leaned back against a wall and slid down to sit on the floor, letting his head lean back. He smiled reassuringly when Hermione looked questioningly at him, then, when she resumed her departure, closed his eyes.

"You all right, mate?"

"Just tired." Harry opened his eyes. Ron was kneeling beside him, looking concerned. A quick glance past him confirmed that they were alone.

"I told Hermione I'd take care of you."

Harry warmed with something between pleasure and embarrassment. "I don't need taking care of, really. I'm just tired."

"Wouldn't know why. Schoolwork and ... meetings, and the attacks, and then Snape has to go give you detention and keep you working past lights out...!"

Harry opened his eyes again. After confirming that they were the only ones in the room, he flicked out his wand and secured the door against eavesdroppers.

"The strange thing is Snape's not a whole lot better."

"Better than what?"

"Me. I mean, he's worried. He's meeting a new contact at the Hog's Head on five o'clock on Saturday, and he was growling and cursing about this new 'ally' must be a double-agent, sent by Voldemort to uncover his loyalties." Harry let out a breath. "I think he likes having an Order member around, though he'd never admit it. He gets to actually complain that way."

"Voldemort knows he works with Dumbledore, though."

"Yeah, but he's giving over some sort of potion, or something. Something Voldemort shouldn't find out he has." Harry shrugged. "Dunno the details -- he wasn't trying to explain it."

"Should you be telling me all this?" Ron's voice cracked. Harry let his head rest back again.

"Probably not. I'm just so tired. And I know it's not you." He bit his lip and looked nervously at his friend. "Don't go telling any of your brothers though, all right?"

"What? You can't believe that rot of Snape's about it being one of us!"

"Not believe, no. But the only one I'm trusting here is you."

"None of them would --"

"Ron?" Harry pushed himself upright. "I -- Let's just not fight about it, all right? I want to believe that too."

"You can't single out --"

"I'M NOT!" Harry pulled himself under control. "Look -- I trust you and Hermione, and mostly Dumbledore." _And Severus, _he thought. "That's it. Anyone else, your family or no, I don't give information to. If you want me to talk to you, you don't pass it on, clear?"

Ron nodded. He looked miserable, now, rather than angry. "I hate people saying it's _us, _just because none of us have died."

"Or been on the missions that were targeted."

"Even so! It's only been four of them."  
Harry related the exchange to Severus the next evening, after he returned from the fictional meeting about the dragon scale and confirmed that Charlie had not betrayed them. Severus grumbled about the short notice, but Harry could tell he wasn't really upset. As soon as he had finished snarling, he sent an owl to a local mushroom gatherer, arranging to meet for an exchange of goods on Saturday, so some transaction would be seen taking place. That time, he was back for dinner, apparently without incident. Harry was relieved, but rather missed the excuse to linger in his quarters.  
The message to Bill, like the one to Charlie, was a joint creation, composed on Sunday afternoon, in a loose, sweaty, post-coital tangle on Severus's bed. They decided to omit Lupin, for fear Bill would go to him for verification or information, but they kept the vampire. A vampire representative insisted on a personal meeting with Harry Potter before committing to substantial negotiations. Snape would oversee his direct protection, but he wanted a comprehensive list of risks and counter-measures from Bill -- all in confidence, as Harry's participation was to be kept secret.

Harry waited while Severus was recording it. After he left, Severus would make a floo call to Bill's Spitalfields flat, visually confirm that Bill was there and alone, and hand the message-ball through. Watching Severus idly rolling the shimmering ball along his long fingers, Harry was again grateful that the twins had passed their test.  
At breakfast on Wednesday, an innocuous brown owl swooped down to Harry.

"Who's that from?" People looked curiously over at the owl. Harry seldom got personal mail.

"Don't know."

Harry took the letter from the owl and opened it just enough to read the signature, trying to shield it with his body so the others couldn't see. Bill Weasley. Hurriedly, he closed it again, and tucked it into his bag just as Seamus leaned over.

"Got yourself a girlfriend, Harry?"

Lavender giggled. "No, it's secret battle plans."

Harry wished that girl would learn to keep her mouth shut. "It's private," he said shortly. He left breakfast early to get the dormitory to himself. Potions, under the circumstances, was the class to which he could best afford to be late.

The letter was short and indirect:
    
    
    Dear Harry,
    
    I have heard, though it is not public knowledge, that you were   
    taking an unusual risk. Is this true? My sources are not the usual   
    ones.  
    Take care,   
    Bill Weasley  
    

Harry frowned. This was why he and Snape were using each other as the other participants, but no one else had double-checked with him. Perhaps Bill suspected a double-cross from Snape? He composed a careful reply.
    
    
    Dear Bill,
    
    The risk should not be as great as it has been previously. For example,   
    it is not public knowledge, as you said. Also, we are taking precautions.   
    I'll be careful.
    
    Thanks, Harry

He folded the letter, sealed it with the wax and stamp Ginny had given him for his birthday, and walked up to the Owlery to give it to Hedwig. When she was safely aloft, he checked the time. It was already ten minutes into his Potions lesson, and the dungeons were a long walk down. He was tempted to just skip it, but he knew Severus would not forgive that. Mentally bracing himself, he started for the staircase.  
The door to the Potions room was shut. Harry put his hand on the latch and paused to gather his nerve._ Yeah, he'll forgive me when I tell him -- when I can tell him. For now, he'll be as bad as ever. _It suddenly occurred to Harry that Snape might think he was presuming on their relationship for leniency. "Oh hell." As quietly as possibly, praying that there was some explosion going on, Harry opened the door and slipped inside.

"Well, it seems our resident celebrity has finally deigned to join us."

Harry slipped into the nearest seat. "Sorry, sir."

"Sorry?" Snape repeated sarcastically. "You think you are too important for lessons, Potter? Too famous to keep to a schedule? Were you answering your fan mail? Highlighting your scar in a mirror?"

"I ... I had to send a letter, sir. It took longer than I --"

"The fan mail. Of course." Snape swooped down, so that his face was suddenly inches from Harry's own, and contorted with a rage Harry had not seen in weeks. "You are _nothing,_ Potter, do you understand me? Nothing! The adoring sheep that go trailing after you are weak-minded fools, who will turn against you just as easily."

"I'm aware of that, sir."

Snape froze, mouth open.

"It's happened before," Harry pointed out, rather pleased with himself for managing to halt Sev- -- no, _Professor Snape _\-- in mid rant.

"Detention, Potter."

Harry started to nod, but Snape leaned closer, smiling nastily. "Tonight. And tomorrow night. And the night after. And the one after that. One for every five minutes. And twenty inches on the importance of Potions in your chosen field -- I will ask Professor McGonagall which that is -- due the last night."

Harry fell back, stunned. Snape straightened, pivoted, and strode away. The Slytherins sniggered and whispered amongst themselves as the lesson resumed.  
"Was it from a girl?"

Harry rolled his eyes at Ron's query. At least they were outside, walking back from Care of Magical Creatures, with only Hermione near. "Hardly. It was ..." He hesitated. "... Fawkes's business, indirectly."

"Faw-- Oh." Ron's eyes widened. "At breakfast?"

"Well, that's the thing. It wasn't official, so it was very vague, and I needed to ... not really answer."

"You'll tell Dumbledore, then?" Hermione prompted.

"Course." Harry felt a twinge of conscience at the blatant lie, but he needed them to not worry. _It's only until we finish -- just Ginny and Mrs. Weasley to go, I think._

"Couldn't it have waited until lunch, though?" Hermione sounded distressed. "Snape was really angry -- and Harry, for once I can't blame him. We only have seven months until our NEWTs, and you were nearly twenty minutes late for a _crucial_ Potions lesson!"

On Hermione's other side, Ron rolled his eyes. Harry's mouth twitched with a repressed smile. Hermione thought every lesson was crucial.

"So, I was thinking about it," Hermione continued, "and I decided Ron and I should definitely stay here with you, over Christmas holiday. We can all study together." She tsked at Harry. "And don't look at me like that. You know you need it. Wandering around being moody may make the girls swoon, but it does nothing for your marks."

Harry blinked. "Haven't noticed any swooning girls."

Now it was Hermione's turn to roll her eyes. Ron laughed. "You should try looking behind you, sometime."

Automatically, Harry glanced behind them. Pansy and Parvati were whispering, dark heads bent together. He wondered when they had started speaking to each other, and how he had missed it, and what they were talking about. _Perhaps they fancy each other?_

"Those two, right," Ron said cheerily, "and more of the Hufflepuffs. Down to the third years, really."

"Third ... You're making that up!"

"Well, not seriously," Hermione said practically. "Just looking and giggling, really. But several of the more mature girls fancy you, too."

Harry shrugged. He knew this would have interested him a few months ago, but he wasn't sure he cared, now. He expected most of them would be accommodating, and put themselves in danger. "That's because they've never watched me through a sulk."

Ron snorted. "Who hasn't?"

"Harry, you really should try to extend your social circles --"

"Look." Harry stopped walking and turned towards Hermione. "I could easily get _killed _at any time. People near me are even more likely to get killed, because they don't have my protections. I'm not going to get ... _involved _with anyone I don't consider highly competent in combat and completely independent."

Ron laughed. "Well, if Ginny dumps Zachariah, I'll send her your way, right?"

_Zachariah would work just as well. _Harry grinned. "You just want me as a brother-in-law."

"Damn right!"

Hermione grabbed Harry's arm and looked past him to Ron. "Come on. We need to get Harry to lunch."

"Why?"

"Because he never eats dinner before a detention. You know that."

"Oh. Right." Ron put a friendly hand on Harry's shoulder and steered him forward. "Honestly, Harry, what were you thinking? Fifteen minutes late to Potions? You're lucky that creep didn't poison you."


	3. The Capture

By dinner time, Harry was less sure than he had been that morning that Severus would forgive him. Nonetheless, he made it a point to eat moderate helpings of several dishes. It wasn't until he saw Hermione smiling excitedly at Ron during puddings that he realized that he might have been manipulated.

He ended up arriving at detention several minutes early, with Bill's letter tucked into a pocket of his robes. The door to the Potions master's office was open, but Severus wasn't there. Harry wondered if he had been called away on an emergency. He put his bag down in front of Snape's desk, and tried to stand there to wait, but as the minutes stretched on, he lost patience. He took a few steps over to the shelves along the side wall and began idly perusing their contents.

"Potter. Feeling punctual this evening?"

Harry turned nervously._ Why now? _"Hi. Look, I --"

"You thought I would look the other way?"

"No!" Harry glared. "I don't expect --"

"Then explain, Potter. And if you don't have a much better reason than you gave in class, you will regret it." His face twisted unpleasantly. "And not in a good way."

"Bill wrote me."

"What?"

"I got a letter from Bill Weasley in the morning post. I thought I had better reply immediately, to keep him from going to Dumbledore."

Severus's face remained pinched and hard, but his eyes had moved from Harry to beyond the borders of the room. Suddenly, he focused again. "Show me this letter."

Harry nodded and pulled the folded parchment from his pocket. "Here."

Snape examined the parchment, his frown deepening. "Careless."

"It's pretty vague."

"It's too much information to put in writing."

Harry shrugged. "It's Bill. He could have heard that I'm wandering around at night." Harry grinned. "Or cultivating an unsuitable relationship."

"It's still too much. There is a reason why we send message balls, now. A powerful enough witch or wizard can read a letter from its ash."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I was at those meetings, Severus. That's one place where I do pay complete attention."

Black eyes flicked back to him. "There are two, then?" A step forward and a hand had closed on his crotch, palm pressing in hard against his still-soft cock. Harry swallowed. His body was certainly paying attention now.

"More than two, I think," he managed, but he was hardening rapidly, and the words didn't want to form. Snape bent to bite and suck at his neck. The shift brought his hair in front of Harry's face, and Harry brushed his nose across the light musk of it. He had noticed by now that Severus did wash his hair regularly, although not often -- it was every Saturday, and usually once between. Harry thought he liked it best like this -- not yet stringy with oils, but left to itself for long enough to hold Severus's scent. He lost the thought as that hand ground against him again.

"Nngh." He pushed into the touch. "Am I forgiven, then, sir?"

The black head lifted, hair falling straight along the side of Severus's face. His touch lightened, then slid to Harry's hip. "In part. I no longer feel it necessary to make your punishment overly tedious. You will still stay, and I still require the essay."

Harry sighed. "You would." He bit back a complaint as Severus stepped clear of him.

"You have NEWTs in seven months."

"I know! Hermione tells me that daily."

Severus scowled. Harry knew he hated to be compared to Hermione.

"You should listen."

"Bugger that! Anything that might help me kill or lure or distract Voldemort is useful; the rest is nothing. If I do that and survive, anyone will hire me; if I can't do it, I'm a danger and unemployable."

"You have no idea what might help you."

Harry shrugged. He didn't feel like arguing. "How did you know when I stepped away from the desk?"

Severus, as he had hoped, was distracted. "Know?"

"You must have. Is it a sort of Legilimency, knowing where people are before you enter a room? That could be useful."

Severus snorted. "Hardly." He prowled behind Harry, gripped his shoulders, and turned him to face the corner by the door. "Look up. By the ceiling."

Harry looked. He didn't see anything. "Um...."

"At the juncture of ceiling and walls."

That point was occupied by a small round blob of semi-transparent stuff. Had he noticed it earlier, Harry would have assumed it was just a congealed droplet from some long-ago explosion. "The blob?"

"That's a monitoring stone, Potter. Haven't you ever seen one before?"

"Not that I've noticed. How does it work?"

Severus reached a hand into his robe and drew out a flat slice of stone -- quartz, Harry could see from here. He glanced up at the blob -- it might be quartz, as well, if quartz could be cut on a curve. Harry didn't know if it could or not. He took the proffered stone from Severus. It had strange dark flaws.

"Try an Engorgement Charm."

A quick glance up at Severus showed he was in earnest. Harry set the quartz slice down on the desk and aimed carefully. _"Engorgio."_

The flaws were a miniature picture of the office -- a miniature looming Professor Snape, a miniature wide desk, and a miniature him, staring down at the desk. Eyes still on the desk, Harry raised a hand and moved it in a slow arc, back and forth. The picture did the same.

"Shit. Are these things common?"

"Moderately. They have a very short range -- I can't see from this one from as far away as the headmaster's office, and can only discern faint shadows from the Great Hall -- and they are easily detected with a simple scan, or occluded by a simple Privacy Charm."

Harry focused on him. "Teach me."

"Why? So you can poke around in my office?"

"So actual enemies can't do this to me!"

"And you think you're ready to face Voldemort."

Harry glowered at the familiar sneer. "No, I don't! I just think I'm not becoming any more ready. Anyone who won't help me should get out of the damned way."

"Very well. Tomorrow's detention will be a lesson in monitoring devices, and how to detect and evade them." A slightly contemptuous smile twisted Severus's thin lips. "I am certain you will find it useful, actual enemies aside."

Harry suddenly remembered that he was at a detention, and awaiting punishment. He wet suddenly dry lips and swallowed. "And tonight?"

That smile became more predatory, and Harry felt his mind shut down as his center shifted to his cock.

"Tonight, we are going to my classroom, and I am going to make you pay attention." Severus was panting slightly as he narrowed his eyes at Harry. "Come with me." He grabbed Harry roughly by the sleeve and pulled him out into the corridor. Harry stumbled before finding the rhythm of the man's strides. Severus leaned close in the empty passage. "If I could keep you through being seen, I'd put you on a leash, Potter."

The cold whisper seemed to set Harry's nerves on fire, and he had to work not to moan in response. Severus pushed him through the Potions room door. While he bolted and magically secured it behind them, Harry stood, stunned, thinking of hard leather around his neck, of Severus tugging him along the stone corridor as if he were helpless, of students staring, afraid to speak. He was jolted back to the present by his professor's sharp voice.

"Mr. Potter!"

"Yes, sir?" Harry straightened. Severus prowled in front of him and stepped uncomfortably close.

"Strip." The command was crisp and clear. Severus's lip curled. "Completely. Now."

Harry shivered. He felt all his control unraveling as he unfastened his robe, pulled off his Gryffindor tie, and unbuttoned the shirt beneath it. The cage of things he was supposed to be -- "Last Hope" and "Hero" and "Weapon" -- fell to the floor with the tangle of fabric. Professor Snape was watching him like a snake about to strike, and that regard itself drew the breath from his lungs. He licked at dry lips as his hands moved to his belt buckle, undoing it over hips that wouldn't quite stay still.

"Good boy."

At the softly breathed words, Harry let out a shaken laugh. "No." He dropped the oversized trousers and stepped out of them, letting his erection bob as he toed off socks and shoes. "Don't think I am. Not here."

Snape's lip curled. "What a desperate little slut you are, Potter. Hard already?" He began to move around Harry. Only when he was nearly behind him did he step close, bringing his mouth to Harry's ear. "Do you wish you had more of an audience? Imagine your classmates here watching that little display -- the way you rock your hips while pushing down your trousers, begging for everyone to look at your cock."

Harry whined, only belatedly noticing that he was rocking his hips again. He balled his hands into fists to keep them at his side. "Tu- May I touch myself, sir?"

"No."

"Want --"

"This is not about what you _want, _Potter. I've had enough of your impudence and inattentiveness. Bend over the table."

Harry stepped close to the table and bent over it. It was a student workbench and slightly lower than his hips, canting him forward.

"Grip the far edge and don't let go."

"Tie me?"

A hand came down flat on his arse, and Harry tensed at the loud crack of flesh on flesh. "If you can't control yourself, I will restrain you, but don't expect to come if you can't even stay in place."

Harry wanted to protest that he _could _stay still, he'd just rather be bound, but he realized that Severus knew that. He kept his mouth shut.

"This, Potter, is my classroom. Does it seem at all familiar?"

"Ye- Yes, sir."

"Really? Then why do you never seem to _be _here, even when you deign to show up?"

Harry could think of no reply that would not make the insult real, so he stayed silent. Severus came around the table and crouched by his head. "I'm going to teach you to be here, Potter. You're going to pay attention for once." He stood, spreading his legs wide to put his crotch even with Harry's face. "Undress me."

Harry nearly brought his hands to the buttons in front of them, then remembered he was not to let go of the table. Lifting his head awkwardly, he used his teeth to hold a loop still and his tongue to push the button through it.

"High enough," Snape said, when Harry had stretched as high as he could reach without bringing his hands in. "I don't need my chest bare." He flicked the voluminous robes back, uncovering his trousers. "Go on, Potter. You know where I like your mouth."

Below the top button, the trousers were loose and easily undone. It took little effort to uncover Severus's underpants. A wet spot in the straining fabric marked the tip of his erection, and Harry flicked his tongue to it automatically. The slickness of pre-come had soaked through the plain cotton. Harry mouthed the hard length through the fabric for a moment before moving his teeth to the waistband and pulling it out. When the pants were a stretched band of fabric across Severus's spread thighs, he began licking at Severus's cock, and then gripping it with his mouth, trying to get the tip down where he could slip his lips over it.

Severus rocked, and he had it, suddenly -- the tip of that swollen cock pressing against the roof of his mouth as he strained with his lips to keep from scraping it with his teeth. After a moment of strain, Severus slid the inch lower that Harry needed to get a good angle, and he set to it in earnest.

It wasn't long before he could feel Severus getting close, feel his movement picking up speed and losing control. He tightened his lips and pressed more with his tongue, urging, _now, now._ He cried out in surprise when Severus stepped suddenly out of reach, his cock exiting Harry's mouth with a wet "pop!"

"Want --" Harry collected himself. "Please sir, wasn't I-"

"Oh, you're talented." The cold hiss scattered over him like water as Severus walked away, back around the table and out of reach. "Very talented. But you won't be out of this that quickly."

A hand trailed slowly across Harry's backside, reminding him that Severus could still reach him. He moaned and arched into it. _A good fuck here, yeah...._

The hand lifted and came down hard.

Harry tensed. He tightened his grip on the edge of the table and clenched his mouth shut.

"Your lessons are not optional."

The hand came down again, sending sparks of cold-hot pain across his arse-cheeks and down his thighs. Harry considered letting go of the table and walking out. Still, it was possible Severus would tire of this quickly -- especially if he did not cry out -- and go back to something better.

"You will not waste my time." Another blow.

He could, Harry resolved, take this. He kept his jaw shut and stayed still. The hand lingered on his burning backside for a moment, and then snaked forward, hesitating at first contact with Harry's shrunken cock. Harry felt his face heat, but long, rough fingers were encircling him there. Severus leaned forward along his back, covering him. The voice in his ear was as cool as the breath was warm.

"Don't like being spanked? I'm surprised, Harry. It seems like just your sort of thing."

"Sorry," Harry muttered. He willed himself to harden again under Severus's coaxing touch, but it wasn't coming back as quickly as he would have liked. "Go on. I can take it."

"I don't want you to 'take it,' dolt! I want you to beg for it -- something you'll beg for." Hips rocked against his, Severus's cock pressing the length of his crack wide. Harry found himself filling his lover's curled fingers with no effort at all.

"That's better. Is that what will get your attention? A hard fuck, right across the table?"

"Oh, god, yes."

The voice behind him cracked out like a whip. "Is that how you ask?"

"No, I -- Please, Professor? Please fuck me?"

He heard the catch of breath behind him, and smiled.  
Harry looked up from pulling on his trousers. "That 'the class is watching' thing? We should do that some time."

Severus stared. "I am not so suicidal as to bugger you during a lesson."

"No, I mean, pretend. Like that they're there and too shocked to do anything. And you could come over to tell me I'm doing it all wrong, and I could start sucking you off...."

Severus shivered. "Or I could catch you touching yourself and make you strip and let everyone watch you...."

Harry felt his face heat, but it wasn't a bad thing. He thought he'd like Severus's snakeskin voice whispering that everyone was watching him, and could see what a dirty boy he was.

"Voiceless again, Potter?" Snape bared crooked teeth in a threatening smile. "I know only one thing that does that to you. And here I had nearly come to believe that you _didn't _want attention."

Harry forced his throat and mouth to work. "'S'a different kind." He looked away. "Wouldn't like the papers the next day, I expect."

Severus snorted. "No." He frowned at his hourglass. "It is far too soon for you to leave your detention. My rooms?"

"Um, yeah."  
"Severus?" Harry settled tentatively on the grey sofa, and wondered if he had spoken loudly enough. Severus was pouring himself some sort of drink. Harry watched him set the bottle back in the cabinet under his corner table and come back with it. He handed it to Harry.

"Would you like a taste? It's firewhisky."

Harry accepted the glass and took a sip from it. It made his entire mouth feel hot and awake. The flavor was bearable. He tried again before handing it back. "Um. I might like that."

"It takes a few tries." Severus settled back, lit a cigarette, and tossed him the pack. "What did you want?"

"What? Oh! Um...." Harry covered his embarrassment by extracting a cigarette and leaning forward for Severus to light it. He wondered if that was girly. The connection seemed so sexual that he couldn't help liking it.

"I was wondering...." He blew out smoke and took a quick breath. "Um, will you be around during the Christmas holiday?"

Severus gave him the look that preceded accusations of idiocy. "No," he said sarcastically. "I'll be in Tangiers, vacationing with my extended family, and playing croquet with my dozens of dear nieces and nephews, who miss me terribly during the school year."

Harry bit back a smile. "Well, will you have time for me? I mean, Ron and Hermione are talking about staying. Ron really should go home -- you know how his mum's been -- and Hermione will drive me mad if she stays -- she's frantic about NEWTs already -- 'If I stay, we could study together,'" Harry mimicked. "So, if I'm alone, could we ... do things?"

"Things?"

Another drag -- a long one -- to cover for the sudden panic twisting in his gut. Harry forced his voice to sound unconcerned, almost bored. "Fucking. Talking. Whatever." He looked up in time to see Severus's mouth quirk, only to settle again into a knowing sneer.

"Things."

Harry relaxed at the passive amusement. He settled against the sofa and let his head fall back. "Yeah. With no one around to notice if I'm gone for a while."

"I expect I would ... have a moment or two. If you make it worth my while."  
Thursday's detention was less entertaining, but useful. Harry learned about monitoring stones and sound sponges and how to detect both, the various truth serums and their limitations and uses, device and potion combinations that recorded one's dreams, and alternative uses for the pensieve. Snape also tucked in a Legilimentic attack, which Harry deflected almost without thought. That trick won him some veiled praise which turned into a quick bout of sixty-nine on the office floor.

Friday's detention was almost purely a social visit, spent mostly in Severus's bed. He'd enlarged it considerably since Harry's first visit, though the room was still personalized only by the detritus of secluded activities. Harry felt oddly proprietary of the jumble of cuffs at the foot of the bed, and the emptied, but not cleaned, glass that served as an ashtray, and the stained cushion that Severus had pushed under his arse the week before.

"Did you expect pretty, Potter?" Snape had snarled in response to the knowing sweep of Harry's gaze.

"Of course not, sir. I'm sure you're far too busy for such things." A sudden hard tension in Severus's face told him this was the wrong approach, and he threw himself down on the bed and rolled over with a disarming grin. "Honestly! If I wanted pretty, I'd be with a girl. Or Malfoy."

For Saturday, they agreed on a late afternoon detention, starting at the earliest time Severus might get back from staking out the bogus meeting with the non-existent vampire. Harry had been surprised, originally, that Severus was so free with the password for his rooms, but he knew by now that everything of value or import was in the far more rigorously guarded office and supply closet. By mid-afternoon, after two hours of Hermione's explanation of their new study regime, Harry was only too happy to claim detention and retreat to the dungeons.

He had just settled down with his Charms homework when the door crashed loudly open and even more loudly shut.

"It's _Bill."_

"What?" Harry jumped up. His Charms book crashed to the floor. Harry barely noticed the plaintive moan it emitted.

Snape's face twisted with loathing. "Bill Weasley. Bill! Traitor! Even I trusted him! But no -- the ambush moved into place at three o'clock. Nott was behind the old wall; I saw him adjusting his mask. I apparated out after the third arrival."

"I -- Bill?" Harry felt sick. Bill was.... He _admired _Bill, he realized. Had admired him. Even Ron's dad would have been easier to bear.

"I don't understand it! He and Wea-- your friend -- are the ones I thought least likely. The twins are ambitious, and the dragon handler single-minded --" Snape stopped speaking and looked abruptly at Harry, who countered with an automatic contemptuous twist of his mouth. He couldn't really care about Charlie, at the moment. _Bill? Our Bill?_

"I suppose we should tell Dumbledore."

Snape's face pinched with avarice. "We can apprehend him ourselves."

Harry considered that.

"He won't be on guard, yet," Snape continued, his harsh tones softening to silk. "The longer we wait, the more likely he will be alert. If we are to take him unawares, it must be before your expected appearance. The headmaster may not be available so soon."

Harry reflected that Slytherin ambition could look a lot like bravery. He did not want glory at Bill's expense, but Snape's argument was sound.

"All right. No killing though. We capture him and bring him back to Dumbledore; then we explain."

Snape shrugged. "Of course. If we killed him, we would never know what plans had been compromised."

Harry looked at him sharply. He wondered how much of that coldness was genuine, and how much of it covered hurt. Snape had definitely sounded betrayed when he had first returned. With a shrug of dismissal, he drew his wand. "Let's go."

"You disarm him --" Snape grimaced painfully. "-- as I well know you can -- and I will bind him."

"Agreed." Harry took Floo powder from the proffered box and followed Snape to the Grimmauld Place, where they could apparate. After he was steady, he reached out his left hand. They needed to appear simultaneously. His eyes locked with his lover's, even as he focused on the thought of Bill's Spitalfields flat. _"Disapparate!"_  
They reappeared in front of Bill's grate, facing his sofa. Alerted by the sound of Apparition, he came charging in from the kitchen, wand drawn, only to stop in his tracks at the sight of his visitors.

"Harry? Sn-"

"Expelliramos!"

"Vincirio!"

Bill tried to reach forward, but vines from Severus's wand pulled his arms back to his torso and bound them in. His eyes widened with horror and fear. "Ha--"

"Quietus!"

The second syllable of Bill's outcry was reduced to a bare whisper. A cold flash of anger shot through Harry at the gall of the man, appealing to him for help. He kept his wand trained on the space between Bill's eyes. "Why?" he asked harshly.

Bill stared, his mouth open.

Snape stepped forward. His wand, also, was still pointed at their trussed and muted prisoner. "Out with it. Who are you working for? What have you told them?"

A mask of confusion moved across Bill's panic. He let out a strangled, hysterical laugh, unreally quiet from the effect of the Muting Charm. "What? Snape, come on! Harry -- don't let him do this!"

Harry took a single step towards Bill -- perfect, self-possessed Bill, now rumpled and frightened. "You betrayed us -- betrayed _me."_

"No! Harry, damn it, who told you that? Him?" Bill jerked his head towards Snape. "Paranoid git. I'd never, I swear --"

"Watch your mouth." Snape's snarl lowered to a hiss. "Death Eaters, Bill. They were there, waiting. It was you."

"It wasn't! Someone else must have --"

"There _was _no one else." A cruel smile lengthened Snape's tight lips. He stalked forward, one step at a time, like a hunting cat. "There was no meeting. We _made it up. _You." The tip of his wand met the skin revealed by Bill's half-open shirt. Harry watched it drag slowly up Bill's neck, leaving a red line in its path, and stop just below his ear. _"Only _you. So you see, we are quite certain." He leaned close. His voice was soft. "Traitor."

"I didn't! I don't know how they found out. I didn't tell anyone! I'll take Veritaserum! I'll --"

_"Legilimens." _Severus's voice was as soft as snakeskin.

Harry moved in to share the kill. _"Legilimens!" _  
Bill's mind was colorful, vibrant, and surprisingly disordered. Images of dinner with Fleur, Order meetings, and pick-up Quidditch with his brothers and Harry overlapped disjointedly._ "I couldn't help it," Charlie was saying. "Harry's so...." _

"The message ball!" Severus snarled.

Harry had found the right memory now, or perhaps his partner's command had brought it forward. Bill was reaching over the hearth to take the message ball from Snape. "From your father," Snape said, indicating that no contact with headquarters was needed, and Bill nodded.

Harry followed the thread of the memory further. Bill took the memory ball over to a small, slanted writing desk that hung from the wall next to a Muggle phone. He pulled out a quill, dipped it in ink, and twisted the ball open. Mist flowed out and solidified into a tiny Severus who floated in mid air, his arms tucked into his sleeves.

"Mr. Weasley. Your expertise is required. The Chosen will be meeting a vampire delegate, an hour after sunset on Saturday. The meeting will be in the old wolf-house, so we have an advantage, but the Chosen needs further protection, in case the delegate is displeased. We have obtained an Apollo amulet -- please research any additional protections needed and advise, directly to me."

Bill wrote quickly:
    
    
    Harry -- Sat sunset+hr -- ShSh -- research vamp.

When that was done, he looked at it for a moment, idly outlining "Harry" with expanding borders. He underlined "vamp" a few times, added the notation "Apollo", and ripped the parchment. To Harry's surprise, he then inserted it in a slot at top of the writing desk. A puff of blue smoke emerged from the slot, and Bill dusted off his hands. "Apollo amulet," he muttered. His mind was full of concern -- concern for Harry. "A good start. Why Snape, though?"

_"Finite incantantum." _A hand pulled on Harry's arm. "Out! What the hell were you doing? You don't have training for that!"

Harry found his place in the room and whirled. He was still disoriented and nearly fell when he swung around. "I've done it before! And I was the one who would have died."

Bill had fallen back and was lying on the floor, staring at them. "I didn't...."

"You wrote it down, out of code --"

"He didn't tell," Harry interrupted. "He was worried about me. I could feel it."

"What does that matter, if he's a damned idiot! We don't write things down for a _reason!"_

"I have an Obliterator!" Bill protested, his voice magically faint. "I _need _to write it down; that's the only way I can remember. I destroyed it, though."

"Who charmed it? The Obliterator. Did you check for redirection?

"Gods, yes!" Bill bit his lip. "It was from Percy. I checked it six ways to Sunday, because, you know,_ Percy, _but it was fine."

"You've been using a present from the Minister's assistant?"

"I'm a curse-breaker, Snape! I checked it! My brother gave me a birthday present, that's all!"

With a snarl of contempt, Severus turned his wand on Bill, floated him in to the kitchen, and dropped him, none too gently, on the worn floor. A moment later, he was firing spell after spell at the Obliterator. It was several minutes before he stopped.

"Am I right?" Bill asked.

"Be silent. Perhaps it's the pad. Was the quill a present also?"

"No."

Snape raised his wand again. "Have you had any other contact with Percival?"

Bill looked furious. "He's visited. He's my brother, Snape!"

"So what? You have four others that are not working with the enemy. You don't need this one!"

"He didn't do anything to it!"

Harry could understand both points. He tried not to think about whether or not he would be able to give up on a family member, if he had one. Instead, he tried to think about Percy's presence strategically. Could he have done anything else to the flat?

Harry thought about the image of Bill writing the words. He shifted over to where Snape was furiously sending detection charms at the pad and quill. Was this within line of a window? He crouched down next to it to check, but the position was clearly safe, as far as seeing in from outside went. Snape was cursing liberally over the absence of tampering on either the pad or the quill. Harry stood up. He immediately had a strange feeling, as if he seen the Snitch for a second. He turned his head slowly, keeping his eyes focused on everything and nothing in particular.

"What are you doing, Potter?"

"I don't know," Harry murmured absently. He crouched down again. _I was here._

"You don't know? What kind of idiotic answer is that?"

A flash of gold._ "Lumos." _Harry's mouth went dry as he looked up at the shiny blob on the underside of the Muggle wall phone. "I found it. There's a monitoring stone under here."

"A moni-"

Snape's hand reached down and yanked Harry off balance, sending him sprawling across the floor and into Bill, whose muted voice was saying something urgent, but too quiet too hear over Snape's harsh voice. "What if someone's watching, you fool!"

"Well, I --"

"This place isn't protected at all!" Snape reached into his inner pocket and pulled out a wrapped sherbet lemon. "Here." He thrust it towards Harry. "A portkey to Dumbledore's office. I'll take care of things here."

"Don't kill him -- or leave him."

Snape's mouth distended in a snarl. "I will _take care of things. _Do you trust me, or don't you?"

Bill thrashed up violently, like a landed fish, whispering as loudly as he could. "Harry, no! Snape's arranged all of this! What if he's betraying you? That could bring you straight to Voldemort."

Harry lifted his eyebrows as turned away from Bill and met Severus's eyes. He raised the little packet to his lips, then pulled the wrapper straight, untwisting it. Slowly, the tip of his tongue stretched out and flicked across the confection. A familiar sensation tugged at his gut and he left the room behind.  
Dumbledore, fortunately, grasped the salient parts of Harry's explanation immediately, and was too focused on the revelation to press him on how he and Severus had started working together.

"I expect Severus will apparate him to the Hog's Head. We have an agreement with the house. Wait."

Harry sat by the fire in a comfortable chair, waiting. First, the headmaster summoned Hagrid and Professor McGonagall, and sent them to collect Bill. Next, he called for Hermione, and asked her, in her capacity as Head Girl, to bring Ron and Ginny to his office. Harry saw her peering in his direction from the flames, but he couldn't bring himself to speak, or even to meet her gaze. He felt curiously empty.

Once Hermione was on her way, Dumbledore began to summon the Order. Harry could tell it would be a full meeting. The headmaster was still contacting people when the younger Weasleys arrived, already looking pale and anxious. Harry realized suddenly that they must be expecting there had been a death, or at least injury, in the family.

"There you are." Dumbledore smiled at them. "Please sit. First, all of your family members are safe for the moment, however --" He paused, peering over his glasses at one, than the other of them. "-- I do have bad news." He cleared his throat.

"We have discovered the source of the leaks. It was not intentional, but it was via one of your brothers --"

"It was intentional for Percy!"

"Now, Harry. We cannot be certain Percy was involved --"

"He_ was! _He gave Bill that_ thing, _and then he visited afterwards."

Ron stared at Harry. "How did you get into this?"

Harry looked at the fire. "Professor Snape and I had a wager."

"WHAT?"

Harry glared at him. "Don't look at me like that! I said it wasn't one of you, and he said it was. So we made things up, and leaked them to each of you in turn."

Ron's face hardened. "So you weren't being careless, that night after practice."

"I'm never --" Harry caught himself. "I'm never that sort of careless."

"And you don't trust me."

"OF COURSE I TRUST YOU!" Harry realized he was on his feet, his hands clenched in fists at his side, a foot in front of Ron, who hadn't so much as blinked. "Ron. If I was going to tell you something like that, I'd _tell _you, knowing it was important. I wouldn't just let it slip as ... as gossip!"

"But you _lied."_

Harry was saved from answering by the arrival of Severus. That wasn't much of an improvement. He leaned against the wall, ignoring Ron's glares, while worried Order members trailed into the room. He kept himself from looking at his professor. Harry knew what would happen after the meeting. He would steal down to the dungeons, and Severus would tie him to the bed and fuck him blind, and they would say nothing at all of Bill.

Bill was all anyone was talking about, now. As soon as he arrived -- unbound, but held on either side by the members of his escort -- the meeting started, though many members were still missing. Bill was in shock, repeating the same things again and again. During his second apology, Ron jumped to his feet.

"Tell it to Dean's mum!" he cried out, and ran from the room. Dumbledore stopped Harry from pursuing him.

"We need you here, Harry." He nodded at Hermione. "Miss Granger, if you would...."

The discussion of ramifications was long and detailed, but the debate over whether or not Bill should be punished was cut short by Bill demanding they execute him and then bursting into tears. Dumbledore called a recess, and Mrs. Weasley and Professor McGonagall led Bill, still sobbing like a child, aside.  
Before the session resumed, Harry's scar began to burn. Severus met his eyes across the room before striding over to Dumbledore.

"I am summoned."

"So I see." Dumbledore's eyes moved slowly to Severus's clasped forearm. He dipped his head gently. "Go then. May I assume Harry can provide any remaining details?"

"All but the last. If I might speak with him a moment?"

On the descending spiral staircase, Severus startled Harry by mashing his lips violently against Harry's. When the door at the bottom opened, they were both panting and flushed. Fortunately, the corridor was empty.

"Professor ..." _Severus, _Harry wanted to say, but public space was public space. "There may have been other monitoring charms. If they saw you, or heard you...."

"Don't imagine you're getting out of completing your essay, Potter. I have more expedient means of retreat." Severus bit his lip before summoning a sneer. "I will see you directly after breakfast tomorrow."

"Yes."

Under the circumstances, that was all he could say.


End file.
